


not about hats

by Oparu



Series: a baby dragon and her terrible purple hat [28]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Found Family, Infertility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 05:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: Emma and Maleficent talk about having children, and pregnancy and periods and emotions. A little angsty, a little TMI, very grounded in friendship.





	not about hats

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of those, I don't know if anyone wants to read it, but I want to write it, so...
> 
> talk of trying to get pregnant, that frustration and very early miscarriage.

"Hand it over." Emma puts one hand on her hip and holds out the other one in a demand.

Maleficent turns from the border of the town and the protection spell they've been working on all afternoon. It's nearly invisible, except for some scorched leaves and a handful of glitter floating in the air. They've used enough magic that her mouth tastes like licorice and cinnamon. The latter must be Emma's magic. She's very fond of the spice. 

She presses her lips together and studies Emma's face. "What?"

"The flask."

Mal chuckles, patting her coat before pulling out the small silver flask. A tiny dragon curls around it, the tail wrapped around the cap. "It's beautiful."

"Killian has good taste."

"And a sense of humor." She sits on the mossy log beside Emma, while the dark forest cocoons them in the last of the sunset. 

Emma takes a sip, then turns it over to read the inscription. "A return to the finer things in life." She stares at it, then takes another sip, smiling at the memory. "Because you could drink again."

"His gift on the morning Araceli was born. Very thoughtful, like yours."

"If he made this, he did a lot better than me."

Mal touches her shoulder, accepting the flask back for a sip before letting Emma hold it. "We love Ara's hats, all of them." 

Emma winces, tipping the flask far back. She drags her boot through the leaves. "I should stop trying, you're going to put them all up in a display when she graduates or something."

Rubbing Emma's back, Mal stares into the trees. "We will treasure anything you make for her, as she does. In time she won't even want to chew on them." 

That at least makes Emma laugh a little. "I'll keep trying."

"Good."

"I think I'm getting better."

"You are!" Mal turns to her, staring into those uneasy green eyes. "You improve with each hat. This is not about hats."

"I'm tired."

"This spell is demanding." Mal rubs her hand in slow circles on Emma's shoulders. "I imagine we'll both sleep well tonight." 

Turning to her slowly, Emma shakes her head. Her hair tumbles forward and she tucks it behind her ears. "I thought," she leans forward, elbows on her knees. "I felt weird, I was tired, things were crampy, it was late. Five whole days late, and I'm never late like that."

"I'm sorry, dear." 

"Yeah, it's nothing. So what if I'm not pregnant this month, there's a whole other month and a month after that--" Emma finishes off the bottom of the flask and hands it back. "Sorry."

"Emma, it's fine."

"It's just-- I was so happy." Emma's voice raises and she blinks. There are the tears, which she'll hate, if she's anything like Lily. Mal removes her handkerchief from her pocket and hands it over. 

Emma starts to laugh as soon as she touches it. "This damn town, everyone has a handkerchief, monogrammed and all that shit. Makes you feel bad getting mascara on it." 

Mal waves her fingers and the handkerchief sparkles, suddenly pristine again. "That's not a problem." 

"This isn't either. I'm okay, really, I--" She sits up, leaning against the tree behind them. "I got pregnant when I was seventeen, right before I got arrested. I had the worst timing imaginable, and now I'm married, I have my family. I love Killian, I have a good life. Now I can't get pregnant, no matter what I do." Emma shuts her eyes and sighs, her whole body sinking against the bark. 

"How long have you been trying?"

Emma balls the handkerchief in her hands. "A while, several months." Opening her eyes slowly, she smirks a little. "We started right after the little dragon got here."

Studying her face, Mal reaches for Emma's tears with her thumb and gently wipes them away. "I believe usually one decides not to have children after watching the birth of one." 

"It wasn't that bad." Emma's hand reaches for hers and Mal prepares to apologize, to jump back because she isn't Emma's mother, and perhaps she's overstepped. Yet, Emma's fingers wrap around her wrist, and she holds on. "You were so calm."

Calm is the last thing Mal remembers being. "Not in my recollection"

"I screamed when Henry was born, flat out screamed like I was dying or something." Emma rubs the back of her hand, then releases her. 

"You were very young." 

"Aren't I still?" Emma rubs her eyes with the handkerchief. "Like by dragon standards, I'm a baby. A weyrling or something."

How old is Emma? A score and a half? Young, but not at all based on the stories in her eyes. "Lily grew as you did, and would have at home. We have a very long life, but childhood is not extended." That's not what she needs to answer, but Emma grabs onto it. 

"So you grow up for twenty years, live for hundreds?" 

"If no one slays you first." She pats Emma's knee. "Though even that does not always take."

That wince happens every time. "Sorry."

"We all have our parts to play in the grand drama: hero or villain. You've been both now, you understand how subjective it can be."

"I really should thank you, because fighting a fucking dragon really was what it took for me to believe."

Shaking her head, Mal wraps her arm around Emma's shoulders. "Saving Henry did that. If he'd died, you could have forgot all about the dragon." 

"You really have no idea what it's like to have you trying to kill me, do you?" Emma chuckles, but it catches wet in her chest. "You're terrifying."

"That is the point." Mal rests her head against Emma's smiling as birds quiet. "Scare the conquering hero away, and you don't have to take the time to fight them. Unless you're in the mood to play with them."

"My father would be so--"

"And that is why I have never said such a thing in front of him. Let him think himself brave, and mighty." Silence draws outward, soft like the mist over the leaves. Snow will be upon them soon, heavy and still.

"I can't talk to them." Emma turns her head, half-burying her face in Mal's shoulder. "They're too them. All hope and undying love and if Killian is true love, it should just work, we fuck, I get pregnant. I did it without true love it should be easy now that I have it, I got knocked up when I was desperately trying not to be and now--"

"Now it's something you want."

"So much." Emma shoves herself up and paces, standing with her hands on her hips, braced against everything. "It's this hole. This unfulfilled want, which is selfish."

"It's not selfish."

"I have everything now, my family, the love of my life, a purpose--" Emma stops, staring out at the world beyond the town line and the never ending pines. "Maybe I'm afraid of going back to nothing." 

That kind of lingering loneliness is a familiar demon. Being so isolated that you didn't even realize what was missing as the quiet gnawed at you, sucking the light from the world and the warmth from your bones. 

"You won't." Neither of them would.

"I keep telling myself that." 

"It's a worthy message."

"I just--" Emma sighs, collapsing in. "I started bleeding yesterday and I fucking hated myself."

"It's a very dramatic display of failure, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, it's a fucking mess, and I--"

"It took Regina and I two tries," Mal offers, wishing she had more. "I've never been through the bleeding part before we started. I knew of it, but-"

"It's so fucking messy. You're in the shower and it's a massacre. Murdering some goblin would be less bloody." Toying with a stick in her hands, Emma turns it over and over. "Two tries, huh?"

Mal brushes a stray leaf off her sleeve, and nods. "I thought I might have ruined it the first time, I was so nervous."

"I don't think it works that way, unless-" Emma looks up from the stick, eyes wide. "It does work that way because with you and Regina it's magic and magic is emotion, and fuck, I couldn't stay calm if I knew I had to stay calm." 

"Luckily, it does not work that way, it's just nerve wracking, even with Regina there. It's a spell, so there's all the pageantry and timing it right." 

"Like IVF?"

Mal knew those letters, but not in that order. They mean something, the way Emma had said them. "Is that something of science?"

"It's a medical thing, I guess it's this world's version of your spell. There's a lot of set up and shots and waiting and timing. We're still far away from that, I mean, plain old regular having sex should still work. It's almost worked."

"You've been late? With the massacre, I mean."

"Twice." Emma stares up at the sky, voice cracking. "Once I was pregnant for a whole two weeks, then I wasn't anymore." 

Raising to her feet, Mal touches her shoulder again and Emma wavers, looks up at her with shining eyes. 

"Almost." 

"You'll get there."

"Be fucking patient."

Hugging her tight, Mal whispers. "You've got this. You're so strong and brave."

Laughing, Emma rests her forehead against Mal's shoulder. "Oh that's not fair."

"What?" Mal blinks at her, feigning innocence in the way that makes Regina throw pillows across the room. 

"I said that." Emma looks for the handkerchief, trying to stop her tears again, but gives up and looks up anyway. "I told you that. You stole that from me."

The end of her labor is still a hazy mess of Regina crying and kissing her, Zelena and Nurse Ratched making her shift positions, but Emma holding her is clear.  Sweet, stubborn Emma gently insisting that the baby was almost there, even when they had to twist her Ara's little shoulders and wriggle her out. She remembers. "You said that over and over in the middle of the night when Araceli was born, which took patience." 

Emma wipes her eyes on her sleeve. "Only twenty-one hours and I hear the second one is easier, if that's something you and Regina--"

Her chest softens, warm around her heart. Ara's still nursing, that's a ways off, and yet...not such a terrible idea.  "Perhaps."

"You're good with her."

Mal rests her hand against Emma's cheek. "So are you. You've been invaluable as her godmother, not just with hats."

Emma brightens a little. "We'll get there. A year from now, we'll have a kid, we can drop him or her off with you and Regina to babysit and go to the movies and fall asleep."

"That only happened once."

She smirks anyway taking a step back. "You two are really cute."

"Thank you." Patting Emma's shoulder again, Mal gestures towards the town. "As are you and the pirate." 

Emma wipes her eyes again, remembering the handkerchief in her left hand. "Sorry, that was probably way too much drama to dump on you. We've not really that kind of friends."

"What type of friends would you categorize us as?" Mal can't help smiling while Emma shrugs.

"Not 'talk about our periods' friends."

They're already late. Regina will probably also be late leaving the office, and Killian's always on time but even he can't compete with the baby and Regina's never-ending pile of paperwork. It's fine. They're fine. Dinner will be wonderful at seven instead of six-thirty. 

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't I just--"

"Emma, dear, for a very long time, longer than your life, and your parents, and grandparents and great-grandparents, I lived by myself and was never bothered with anyone else's feelings or problems or worries about the future. I collected treasures, studied magic and did whatever I wanted whenever I desired."

Emma smiles knowingly. "And you don't miss it because now you have a family?" 

"I miss it occasionally, at never-ending town meetings or when I haven't flown in weeks." Mal glances once more at the edge of town, then brings a little marker into existence so they know where to start tomorrow when they return. "I enjoy speaking with you, about your frustrations or how much your bleeding angers you: whatever you need to say. I am honored to know more about you than politeness would dictate." 

"I like talking to you too." Shutting her eyes, Emma nods. "Home then?"

Mal reaches out with her magic, feeling for Regina, Lily, Henry and the little hatchling. Her wife is still at the office, and the older children are at home. Little Ara barely has much of sensation in the realm of magic, but she'll be with Regina still.  "You're coming over for dinner, Lily and Henry are cooking."

"Right, your home."

"Regina and Killian are still at City Hall."

"Seriously? We're late but they're really late." Emma sighs. "And how do you know that? Can you smell them or something?"

"It's a feeling. Reach out with your magic and you might be able to sense Killian, or Henry, people you love are always easier." 

"Uh-uh," Emma lifts her hand and her fingertips sparkle in the weary twilight. "My magic's shot for the night. I could just text. You, could just text."

Tilting her head, Mal pats her picket and her rarely used phone. "I like feeling them, even for a moment. I like knowing they're there."

Emma's warm fingers, still tingling with magic, slip in Mal's hand. "You're not alone."

"Neither of us are."

"Still seems fucking weird, doesn't it?"

Picturing City Hall, Mal nods before she calls on her magic to whisk them away. "Really fucking weird." 

 


End file.
